Long Essentials Poems
Long Essentials Poems. Below are the most popular long Essentials by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Essentials poems by poem length and keyword.
The book of Matthew gives an accurate account of the birth of Christ
It tells of His divine royalty
and all the conflict He faced in life
It shows us the humanity prominent
in the Son of God
and the humility that He possessed
in the depths of His heart
a regal response to a messianic
promise that the prophets spoke on
a sacrificial soul
who allowed God total control
from the day He was born
His purpose was to prepare a place
for each and every one
a spot in heaven with our Lord God
when all's been said and done
every prophet spoke emphatically
of what Jesus would come and do
the Salt of the Earth,
the Light of the World
who would die for me and you
He was a regal response that
King Herod himself tried to eradicate
like so many Black men today
whom society wants to eliminate
yet our God is the god of intentionality
no such thing as coincidence when
He set forth your destiny
yes there will be challenges
and stagnating issues in your life
but God in His omniscience
will help you deal with the strife
so trust and believe people will do
their best to stunt your growth and potential
you need to trust in God to do His part
to give you all the essentials
and yes there'll be Herods in your life
whose only mission is to destroy and kill
but your messianic promises can't be
stopped unless it's by God's will
Jesus was a royal response from God
sent to reform and to renew
And the 3 Wise Men were sent
to acknowledge Him
as the regal king of the Hebrews
a regal response to a messianic promise
was our Savior Jesus the Christ
born in a lowly manger
in swaddling clothes
Who died to give us eternal life
You are alone on a deserted island that has been filled with overgrown fruit
and bare essentials. The water is so clear you can use it as an honest mirror
of truth. Over in the distance you spot a lovely hammock that has been hung
between two sturdy cypress trees. You decide to walk over and give it a try.(b)
Its soft material hugs you and before you know it, you are fast asleep in that
lovely makeshift hammock. The sound of the ocean rocks your ears in tranquil
motion to and fro. (b)
Passing clouds glide over your head without making a sound. They are watching
you breathe as they go by. Breathe from your diaphragm, your chest, your throat,
Breathe in and out.
You smile cuz you are in a place of inner contentment. A little green turtle trundles
along moving side by side close in , circling your little soft hammock.
She is heading for the ocean for some seaweed, jellies or tunicates. The little rosy
seashells are sitting at the edge. They call you over for a barefoot walk. You smile
as you rise and go to the edge of the water wetting your feet and holding spaced
with the dolphins and the fish (b)
You are going to live here for a little while. Long enough to receive your fitful rest
You are going to stay her for a little while, cuz you know it is the best place to be(b)
The End.
ESSENTIALS
visual language
with
explicit
traces
of experience
eschews
categorisation
limited
only
by number
of the
little
&
defunct
freedoms
of a subliminal
kind
so strangely
familiar
something
of
an icon
in perspective
in
manifested
in
perhaps
unsurprisingly
rare
& privileged
light
&echoes
more focused
with the same
passion
& obsession
with imitation
with
& imagination
beauty &rhythm
confronting
experience
with
innocence
transcending
potential
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
A scarlet-throated hummingbird, betrayed,
commences the annual rite of packing his nest,
in response to whimsical winds' pirouette
and the capricious moods of weather's ballet.
Distant friends once conspired in sunbeam pursuits,
beak-dipping in nectar teased from blossoms' allure,
whispers of the breeze tutoring flight's debut.
Without forewarning, save the whispers of history,
the wind turned, concealing its chilly shoulder,
snow's fragrance on its breath, contradicting denials.
Taking only essentials, nestled close to his breast,
an eccentric twig, a wisp of newborn down for nostalgia,
the unborn blueprints of a portico, a dream deferred.
Perched on a bare branch at dawn, the crimson aviator bids adieu,
soaring on a desolate breath, burden lightened,
leaving his heart with the capricious whimsy of sylphs.
If that I was molded
and made of dirt, clay, particles
none removed you shaped me
you created me, you kissed me
brought me to life
Lord all that I am
so if my self worth
is feeling like dirt
that would be true
because that's, that's how
you made me
but yet if I'm a part of you
righteous and holy truly
how does that replicate
how does that even relate
because you're not a sinful nature
so what part of you
how is that ever even so...
how is the truth
essentials perfect son
who set beside you
the second Adam he left his crown
temporarily to come down
as a man a mere mortal
he was humanity
the perfect but yet you're mine Emmanuel
God With Us all that I am
6/26/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022
PLAYIN' CATCH
Mom and Dad would have the car packed the night before we left,
the station wagon filled with all the essentials we'd need for our
extended camping trips. Dad always made sure I had my ball glove
ready for rest stop breaks. This was my favorite anticipated time of
the trip!... when we would stop, Dad would tell me to grab my glove,
but I was already out the door, lookin' for a clear stretch of grass to
throw with him. Dad had the same glove all through the years, an
old, beat up version that didn't have much padding. I used whatever
glove I was currently using for the team I was playing on, either
a present from him, or a gift, sometimes from a coach. Dad wanted
me to start throwin' easy, as his eyesight wasn't all that sharp, and
he needed to limber-up first, and focus on the 'heat!' I was tossin'.
I remember he would always encourage and compliment me on my
improvement since the last time we threw!. Our trip out west, "Custer's
Last Stand"...Yellowstone National Park".... our trips to "Itasca State Park"
and "Tettegouche State Park" always settin' aside time to "play-catch".
In time, Dad couldn't follow the thrown ball very good, and I remember
when he told me he couldn't "play-catch" any more; by then I was
playin' varsity ball in high school, and Dad would come watch me play.
I always still brought his old glove and favorite 'rubber-coated' baseball
along on outings, so he wouldn't think I didn't remember he was
still my hero, whether he could throw or not. I treasure those moments
now, and always try to 'play-catch' with the little cousins of mine,
encourage and compliment them on their improvement,
.......since the last time we 'played-catch'
l
My girlfriend Barbara one day introduced me to the five languages of love. I was in a relationship dilemna at the time and was hopeful it would shed much needed light.
I thought surely I could figure out which language I exhibited, but more importantly at the time I desperately wanted to identify which love language I needed in order to be happier. So wholeheartedly I delved into it.
Love language #1 is communication ~ since praise is nothing if not backed by actions, it's not the winner.
Love language #2 is quality time ~ sounds like a contender with the shared activities, conversation, and togetherness.
Love language #3 is physical touch ~ how can intimacy and affection not be a much appreciated way to show tenderness?
Love language #4 is thoughtful deeds ~ actions talk louder than words.
Love language # 5 is meaningful surprises ~ to me all expressions of caring are considered gifts so this category seems to encompass the four others demanding that any partner be involved heart and soul in the relationship. Basically I seek balance and want it all. So this is me, it's what I give and what I'd like in return.
. loving is complex
. until we boil it down to
. its bare essentials
AP: Honorable Mention 2026, Honorable Mention 2026, Honorable Mention 2025
The Epidemic
2 Chronicals 7:14 *
The greatest impact of the century
Unlike any seen before
Referred to, as a silent enemy
It rapidly spread from shore to shore
At first, some appeared nonchalant
To the magnitude it did present
They chose to ignore, - - facts
And deem it just another event
Issues involved more than "things"
It was about death and life
Drastic measures were exercised
Most everyone felt the strife
Everyday activities were curtailed
Authorities implemented control
All but basic essentials
Were temporarily put on hold
The epidemic touched rich and poor
A virus does not choose it's prey
The medical world frantically sought
For a way to make it go away
Did it ever occur that mankind
Has drifted away from God
In Eden, when they disobeyed
They were met with a chastening rod
A promise in God's Word declared *
A solution for people in that day
Perhaps this, - - we should consider
Lest we become a castaway
Colan L Hiatt = 05-02-20
© All Rights Reserved
Now, when we were small, we were totally sure
the stars wouldn’t move as we scanned the great sky,
and we knew enough, with no need to know more.
Did we ever question, or think to ask why?
We lay on our backs and could feel the earth move,
so why should we need to know why the sky’s blue?
The grass was all tickly, we’d nothing to prove.
Our tastes were quite simple, essentials so few.
But now that I’m older, I ask what’s my place?
And life goes around in birth, marriage, and death.
I look in the mirror now, look at my face,
and wonder what happens ‘tween first and last breath.
We circle and spin in perpetual motion
and outgoing tides are the tides of all men,
the incoming tides just the breath of the ocean
and these tides will turn and then turn once again.
So, what is this life? Is it all love or lust?
And why are we here on this merry-go-round?
Is life only ashes, then dust into dust?
Am I just a clock that’s been too tightly wound?
I know that in circles we'll spiral tonight,
as we in our universe grow and expand,
where love’s all that matters and we bask in light,
in all of creation we’ll feel The Spirit’s hand.
So, gyred and whirling, we’re here by design,
we're helixes, vortexes, one giant wheel,
created as humans, with purpose divine -
beginnings and endings will never be real.
The weary ploughman shuffles
along the deserted bridle path,
his day-long work completed,
furrows wound around his piece of land,
just arable enough to provide his daily bread.
His dreary shack is cold and bare,
just a few essentials. Oh, once it thrived,
but that, alas, was quite a long past.
Slow movements help him light his fire,
and hang inside the hearth a pot full
of vegetables harvested from small plots
that once was a sort of garden of his wife.
Waiting for his meagre repast, he sits.
upon a decrepit sofa, thinking of the furrows
and what he could sow there provided
he manages to find the seeds and tubers
for the next Thanksgiving Day.
Furrows, furrows everywhere, so very like
the furrows of his weary days gone by.
The day when he was barely ten years old,
came home to find his drunkard of a father
dead at last from cirrhosis of the liver.
Left school and began to till the land
under the caring eyes of his once-battered mother.
The day he met plain Jane, shy and speechless,
they walked along the banks of a lonely stream,
never uttering a word, never holding hands
until the day they finally got married.
Then, the worst furrow of all, the day his child
Was born prematurely stillborn. That day
he could not mourn. Only his wife cried.
Until some years later she too followed her child.
And still, he would not mourn, bottled-up grief.
Yet he had one firm conviction.
The paths of life lead slowly to the last furrow,
there to find, at last, eternal peace.